The Radkial Legacy: Silver's Story

, , , , ,

#1 of The Radkial Legacy

The first of many shorts about significant moments in the lives of the characters of "In the Enemy's Territory" and the Radkial pack.

As a long-standing, well-trusted member of the pack, Silver has a great many privileges that a Delta in most other packs would not normally have at the time "In the Enemy's Territory" takes place. Unfortunately, he didn't always have it so leisurely. Life can be so harsh. But those Radkials, best damn pack in the whole prairie, if I do say so myself.... an' not jist cuz I made 'em up! winks


He was soaked to the bones that showed through his fur, and he couldn't feel his paws from the cold. Still, he trudged on through the driving rain, barely able to the see the muddy road he had been aimlessly following for the last... how many days had it been? A week? Two? Did he really lose count that fast? Well, the gnawing in his stomach was making it really difficult to concentrate.

Honestly? A week or a month, it didn't really matter. He'd escaped them. That was all that mattered. It didn't even matter that he hadn't waited for his Rite of Rank. That was just too far away to endure any longer. Thirteen years had been long enough. The swelling from the last black eye his father would ever give him had long since gone down, but he couldn't blink fast enough to see through the rivulets that coursed down his face any better than when he had first fled into the night after another beating, leaving behind everything and everyone he had ever known.

No one would miss him. Not even his brothers and sisters. He had always been nothing more than an extra mouth. His father just couldn't control himself so there were entirely too many hungry pups fighting over scraps. It had been the death of his mother, passing away in labor from one too many litters.

A slimy amphibian clicked and gurgled as it slithered carelessly across his path. It was meat, and meat was food, no matter how gross it felt squirming down his throat. Maybe the next one he should chew, feeling sick from the sensation of the thing writhing about entirely too long considering its lack of air.

Shivering, he continued his weary march through the day. There really wasn't any shelter to be found along the road, anyway, so he might as well keep walking. Didn't matter where. Anywhere but there.

At last, the storm stopped, opening up to reflect splotches of azure sky in the still puddles all around him. Night would be upon him soon enough, but it wasn't like he would be able to sleep in the ditches like he had considering they were full of water now.

A mechanical growling was getting closer in the distance behind him. It wasn't the first vehicle that had passed him since the start of his long journey, but it was the first one to roll to a stop after splashing past him slowly. Stopping in his tracks, he felt his heart thump with apprehension. Taking a step back, his eyes darted to the fields on either side of the road. A muscular, leather covered arm leaned out the passenger window and a mostly white face with one brown ear poked out to peer back at him. An Alpha's braid swung in the air while he took in the sorry sight before him.

"Hey, boy!" The man waved him over. "C'mere."

Gulping hard and lowering himself in submission, he nervously approached, stopping several paces away. Another gray, tan and white male was peering over at him from the driver seat.

"Hey, yer not from 'round here, are ya?"

He shook his head timidly. "No, sir."

The Alpha raised a brow, looking him over again. "Ye hungry, boy?"

Just the word was enough for the irate beast in his belly to claw its way into his throat, and he had to swallow extra hard to settle it back where it belonged. "Y-Yes, sir," he admitted.

Nodding slowly as though agreeing with him, the man jabbed his thumb toward the bed of the truck. "Well, hop on in. Dinner ought to be ready by the time we get back."

Glancing at him with a hint of mistrust, he figured the worse that could happen was what he had already escaped once and clambered up among the crates of supplies, taking a seat as the truck started up again. The Alpha turned to look him over through the open back window.

"What's yer name, boy?"

Shuddering as the cold wind blew through his damp, matted fur, he did his best to keep his teeth from chattering. "S-Silver, sir."

Raising a brow, the man scoffed humorously. "Appropriate, I s'pose. Well, I'm Wild River, Alpha o' the Radkials. This'd be my brother, Iron Gale. Looks like ye been walkin' fer a while, there, Silver."

Clenching his teeth too tight to speak, he just nodded silently. Thankfully, Wild River did not press. Instead, he shrugged off his thick leather jacket and shoved it unceremoniously through the window at him. "Well, take it, boy, 'fore ye freeze back there."

It was a blanket on him. His hands couldn't reach the holes at the ends of the sleeves. Wrapped tight, it was the warmest he'd felt in days. His receding shivers left him even more tired and weak than before. Wedged in a small space between the crates, he had no idea that he'd fallen asleep until his eyes fluttered open to the sound of excited voices.

He was greeted by many curious, unfamiliar faces peeking at him from the tailgate. Most of the crates had already been unloaded so he must have slept a lot deeper than it felt.

Glancing about in a building panic, he looked up at a movement over him, his ears plastered to his head. A black, well groomed face was grinning down at him with charm, perched in a squat on the truck wall. His green eyes twinkled and his tail wagged, the whittled wooden beads in his omega's braid fresh enough to smell the oils.

"Hi! I'm Fern! This my litter-brother, White Toe." He indicated the equally dark face peering at him with hazel eyes over the wall and a little more reservation. "What's yer name?"

"Uh. Silver."

Blinking, Fern giggled, wagging his tail a little harder. "Well, yeah, ye sure are. Hey, c'mon! Ye should wash up 'fore dinner. Ye can have White Toe's clothes."

"Hey!" White Toe barked, glaring up at him with a growl. "Why ye always volunteerin' my stuff?"

Fern looked down at him from the corner of his eye with a devious grin. "Better yers than mine!"

Narrowing his eyes, White Toe tugged on his brother's tail, perhaps hoping it would knock him off balance. Instead, Fern's paws slipped off the wall and he landed perfectly, upright and unfazed. Placing his fists on his hips, he laughed triumphantly at his brother's groan. "That's right! I'm awesome!"

Silver might have found that funny if he wasn't so tired and hungry. Following after the two, he realized he still had the over sized jacket on and paused to shrug it off, but when he turned to hand it back to Wild River, the Alpha was nowhere to be seen. At least it could keep him warm to the communal shower building.

Every glossy tile was painted with images, though the ones under his feet vanished in the thick filth that rained from his pelt. The hot water was a new experience, and the soap left his fur softer than he'd ever felt. The whole time, the brothers chatted about their pack mates, though Fern watched him with considerably more interest than he was used to any other male giving him, and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. However, despite sensation returning to his extremities, it was now his feelings that were numb with exhaustion, so he donned the clean clothes with no holes, and followed the two back to a large, open building where the entire pack sat at tables and ate from piles of food.

Gazing about, he had never seen so much of it! There was no growling and snapping and bickering. The smell was so divine. Swallowing hard before he started drooling in front of all the eyes that turned to him, he lowered himself quickly under the scrutiny, almost vanishing into the jacket. Stepping back, he bumped into something solid and looked over his shoulder up at the Alpha.

Quickly slipping off the jacket, his arm trembled with the effort to hold it out to him. Instead of taking it, Wild River looked him over and smiled kindly. "Ye clean up nice, boy. Ye can keep that fer now. Maybe it'll fit ye someday. Go on an' eat now."

Sitting with the brothers, other pups and low ranks, he hardly knew where to even start. Was he really just... allowed to take any of the food on the table? Everyone else was helping themselves to the fresh baked rolls, large pots of stew and tender meat.

When White Toe noticed his bewildered expression and empty plate, he glanced over at Fern's loaded, untouched pile of food and grinned. Slipping it away, he hurriedly switched their plates before Fern's head snapped around at the sensation that something wasn't right. Looking down at the empty plate in front him, then over to the plate he had filled for himself, then up at Silver's panic-stricken face, he gave his snickering brother a playful glare before joining in the prank with a laugh. "I guess I were hungrier than I thought! Well, eat up, Silver! Don't leave it sittin' there!"

Fuller than he could ever recall, he followed after the other pups in a fatigued daze. The females who were stuck in the den with the puppies were curious about him, but quickly offered him a soft mat on the floor with the other pups and didn't delay him from slumping down, almost immediately surrounded by the others. Wrapped up tight in the jacket and snuggled warm and safe with so many other bodies that weren't fighting with each other, every last ounce of strength drained from him. Just before the void of the deepest sleep he could remember took him, Silver thought to himself that it would be really nice to stay here forever.